Walking the Walk
by ohcyfan
Summary: An upbeat story about how Cristina and Owen support a friend with breast cancer.
1. Training

**Disclaimer: ** Grey's Anatomy and all its characters are the property of Shonda Rhimes and ABC. I do not own anything. This story is for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement in intended.

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_**A/N: This lighthearted and celebratory piece was written specifically for Mary, and ****I dedicate it to her and to and all the other courageous people out there who are battling cancer. I hope this lifts your spirits!**_

_**I have never walked the Breast Cancer 3-Day, but I have friends who have and who told me of their experiences. The picture I've painted of the event is a combination of those interviews, some internet research, and my own imagination. It is not intended to provide a totally realistic account.  
**_

* * *

By the time Cristina got Mary's email, a year had passed since those fateful events that had caused her to break up with Owen. It had been a terrible, frustrating, and ultimately beautiful year, one full of anguish and despair, followed by glimmerings of hope that eventually blossomed into a new life for both of them. It had taken Owen nine months of intensive therapy with Dr. Wyatt before she pronounced him well enough to pursue getting back together with Cristina, nine months that had been sheer hell for him as he watched her go on with her life. He had driven them both crazy by pushing her away with one hand and pulling her back with the other, alternately consumed with the need to protect her and the fear that she would find someone much less damaged and more attractive than him on which to focus her attentions. Although she had made no promise to wait for him, he had been relieved to see that she had seemed uninterested in starting a relationship with anyone else. When all else failed, she focused on her work just like he did. He had hoped and prayed she would be receptive to him when he was ready.

And she had been. Nine months and one day after that horrific night, he had taken her out on a real date, a trip to the West Point Lighthouse and dinner at a little dive on the water that had the best seafood around. This time they had agreed to keep it casual, trying to stay low key and low pressure. It had been a magical evening that had begun with some tentative hand-holding at the lighthouse and ended up with them in Cristina's bed after a goodnight kiss gone crazy. Thus they had begun the much-delayed second phase of their romantic relationship, this time starting out with a solid foundation. Callie had moved out months earlier to live with Arizona, and two weeks later Owen had started spending most of his free time over at Cristina's, to the extent of keeping a toothbrush and a few other items there for overnights. He had not yet given up his apartment but it was only a matter of time. Paying rent for two places made no sense when they were spending every spare minute together, and Cristina, unwilling to part with her prime location, was already having difficulty carrying the financial burden of her place alone. She teased him that he had only started dating her again so he could roll out of bed 5 minutes before work, but they both knew the truth. These last 6 weeks had been the best of both their lives. Being with her again was the most gratifying reward he could imagine for all the work he'd done. And for Cristina, having Owen back, healthy and whole, was a gift beyond anything she'd imagined for herself when this all began.

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They were sitting together on her couch one evening, laptops open, when Cristina let out a gasp. "Oh, shit."

"What's wrong?" Owen asked.

"Remember I told you about Mary?"

"Mary... your college friend?"

"Yeah, her. She's been diagnosed with breast cancer."

Owen stopped what he was doing and gave her his full attention. "Oh, god, I'm sorry." He knew how much she had taken Izzie's illness to heart. Having another friend to support through cancer treatment was likely to take a lot more out of her than most people would give her credit for.

"Yeah, me too. Her treatment protocol looks pretty aggressive. She's having both breasts removed. Wow, this really bites."

He pulled her close and kissed her on the forehead. "Anything I can do for you?"

She shook her head in frustration. "It's not me who needs the help, is it? I wish there was something practical I could do for _her_."

Owen studied her for a moment. He already had an idea. "Are you sure there isn't?"

Cristina snorted. "I'm not an oncologist. What can I possibly do?"

Owen allowed himself a small smile. Of course Cristina would go there, into the fix-this-now-or-forget-it side of things. "That's not what I meant. There are other ways to support her, even if she's far away. Remember last year when that group of nurses was hitting everyone up for donations for that 3 day walk thing? I'll never forget it because by the time they were done with me, I was out about 500 bucks without even realizing it."

"So you think I should raise money? That's your bright idea?"

"Well, that's part of it... but what if you did the walk this year? I hear lots of people do that to support friends and family members who have breast cancer."

Cristina looked at him like he was crazy. "Me? Do a walk? Isn't that thing like 50 miles or something?"

"Sixty, I think..."

"Owen, walking across the street to go to work is all the exercise I get. You know that."

He gave her a little smirk. "I disagree. You do get some exercise. It just doesn't involve walking..."

She gave him a disapproving look and smacked him on the arm. "You know what I mean. I'm totally out of shape."

"That, Dr. Yang, can be remedied. I'd be happy to train with you. Hell, I'll even do the walk with you if you want. It'd be fun." He raised his eyebrows at her, "I hear everyone sleeps in tents."

"Yuck. Outside? On the ground?"

He shook his head in disbelief. Camping was one of his passions, but the subject hadn't come up yet. Though he could probably have predicted it, this was his first real inkling of her aversion. He realized that future vacations might require some serious negotiation. Might as well start now. "Come on, Cristina, it's not that bad. You can sleep on top of me if the ground's too hard."

"I can sleep on top of you right here in a nice soft bed, too..."

He laid a hand on her arm. "Ok, now, cut it out. You're making me really horny."

Cristina grinned at him. "You're such a guy."

"And that would be a bad thing... how?"

"I can't think of any way that's a bad thing, unless we're trying to stay focused on our conversation, which I think we are..."

They discussed the walk for another ten minutes, and Cristina promised to think about it. Owen was already pretty committed to the idea and was formulating an action plan if she balked. Aside from the camping issue, he had another agenda where Cristina was concerned - namely finding a way to get her to exercise that didn't involve him nagging.

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When they went to bed that night, Owen lay awake for a while, staring at the new light fixture he had installed when they began seeing each other again. He had done extensive work to desensitize himself to the spinning blades of fans and helicopters and was mostly coping well with his PTSD symptoms, but Cristina had taken a hammer to the fan as soon as she realized the connection with the choking incident, even though they weren't together at the time. When he had seen the mangled mess that was left over when she was done with it, hanging at an odd angle from the ceiling like a drunken spider, he had brought some tools over and finished the job. The medication he was on for the night terrors was working exceedingly well and his therapy had released many of his demons, so Cristina could now lie in his arms and fall asleep without fear; still, it was good not to have a reminder hanging awkwardly over his head.

Owen was excited about the idea of training with her for the walk. This lack of exercise thing had been bothering him since he'd started spending all his free time with her and realized she really didn't get any. He was religious about running and lifting weights at least 3 times a week, and although he had no desire to change her for the sake of changing her, he did want her around for a good long time and worried that she risked her health by not working out. Difficult as the situation was with Mary, he hoped that this would be the motivator she needed to get out and do something physical. The added bonus would be the opportunity to work on a joint project that involved taking long walks with her. Spending hours together with nothing to do but talk sounded like just what they needed after their prolonged separation. They had a lot of catching up to do.

To his surprise, the next morning she agreed to do the walk without any further cajoling on his part. She had slept on it, and in typical Cristina fashion, made up her mind quickly. Based on her explanation, it seemed to be the personal side of putting herself out there for her friend that appealed to her. She couldn't sit and hold Mary's hand due to the distance, but a grand gesture was the next best thing, and if it raised money for research - all the better. Not wanting to give her a chance for second thoughts, Owen took her to his favorite running store at their first opportunity and helped her choose a good pair of shoes. She naively thought she could use the same sneakers she used at work, and he didn't want to scare her off by telling her she was likely to walk her way through at least 2 or 3 pairs before this was over.

The event was three months away, and thus began a schedule of extensive excursions several days each week, depending of course on their work obligations. It was hard to find time for this with their already demanding schedules, but they did the best they could. Owen had moved to a more realistic work rotation during the course of his treatment, when Dr. Wyatt had pointed out that he was logging long hours as a way of avoiding his feelings and told him to cut back. In anticipation of the walk, they tweaked their calendars to maximize time off together, and they gradually worked their way up to 4 and 5 hour walks, eating up the miles with conversation or companionable silence. Cristina complained remarkably little about the physical demands, realizing that she was doing this for someone else who couldn't do it for herself. He had seen her intense loyalty already with Izzie's illness, not to mention the fact that she'd waited for him through nine months of hell. Now, here it was again - that soft and shining heart she kept buried under layers of toughness, only allowing a peek to those closest to her. It was a part of her character that touched him deeply and made him fall even further in love with her.

Their fundraising efforts focused on the hospital. A friendly rivalry ensued over the $2300 they each had to raise to participate, and they placed a little bet on who could reach that milestone first, with the winner offering the loser a home cooked meal. Owen had no intention of winning this one, since Cristina was a terrible cook, and he tried to stay one step behind her as they racked up the dollars on their respective sign-up sheets. Cristina milked her connections with the residents and interns, but unfortunately they didn't have much money to spare, so she had to make up in volume what she lacked in quantity. She relentlessly pursued every student at SGH and got them to donate whatever they could, even if it was only a few dollars. Her biggest coup was in the Oncology ward, where she had spent so much time during Izzie's illness and developed some good relationships with the staff. The fact that this was a cancer walk helped her cause there too, and a collection bucket at the main desk filled up nicely with small and large bills left by the patients' visitors and relatives. Izzie herself, in remission and holding her own for now, had donated generously too. Owen, on the other hand, scored big with his fellow department heads and discovered that the female nursing staff seemed unable to say no to him when he asked them, even if they could only donate a few dollars. The Chief, in a well-placed gesture of diplomacy, donated the same sizable amount to both of them. In the end, much to Owen's relief, Cristina beat him by one day.

He found her sitting at the nurse's station, filling out paperwork. He leaned over the desk. "You won, you know."

"Huh?" She kept her attention on the papers in front of her, barely acknowledging him.

"Our little bet. You won. Someone just signed up on your sheet for the last 50 bucks. Looks like I'm the chef tonight. What would you like for dinner?"

"Oh, I **won**! Really? All $2300? That happened faster than I thought it would. Ok. Um... steak, and baked potatoes with sour cream..." She looked around to see if anyone was listening, and whispered, "...in bed."

He smiled. This was definitely going to be a win/win. "And dessert?"

She gave him a little smirk that could only mean one thing. "Surprise me."

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6 weeks before the event and about 2 miles from home, Cristina tripped and stumbled in pain.

"Ow! Ow! Shit!"

Owen grabbed her arm to steady her. "What happened?"

"It's my groin muscle. I think I pulled it really badly. Ow!"

Owen supported her as she hopped over to a low wall and sat down. "Take a break." He sat down beside her, handed her his water bottle and waited as she took a long drink.

A few minutes later, she tried to get up, but sat back down again. "I don't think I can walk back, Owen. Why don't you leave me here and get the truck?"

He shook his head. "No way. I'm not leaving a defenseless female on the street by herself. You couldn't get up and run to save your life." While she bristled at the description of her as defenseless, Cristina realized that he might have a point. The neighborhood wasn't too terrible, but anyone could drive by. "I'll carry you," he suggested, "It's only a couple of miles. Come on," he pointed to his back, "climb on board."

Cristina laughed nervously and shook her head. "I'm not letting you give me a piggy back ride, you big jerk. Be serious."

"I am serious. It's no big deal. I could do a fireman's carry if you prefer... or just drag you back by your hair to my cave."

"Stop it! We'll look ridiculous. I'll never live it down."

"Short of calling an ambulance, which really IS ridiculous, I see no other option..." He was serious now. "Come on. No one will see us. I'll put you down a block from the hospital and help you hop the rest of the way if you're so worried someone will notice... Just let me do this for you."

It took Cristina a minute to realize that he wasn't kidding, that this was important to him for some studly reason known only to the male of the species. Still, she gave it one more try. "I'm too heavy. I don't want you to hurt your back."

Owen looked at her condescendingly. "Cristina, I've carried backpacks heavier than you. Now, cut it out and come on." He got up and helped her stand on the low wall they'd been sitting on, and she reluctantly climbed on his back, her groin muscle protesting loudly as she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. Owen grabbed her under her knees and glanced back at her. "You ok?"

"I'll live, although whether I'll survive the humiliation is another story." She rested her chin on his shoulder and whispered in his ear, "You know, this position works a whole lot better from the front."

He smiled and gave her leg a squeeze. "We'll have to explore that another time. Right now, let's get you home."

As they trekked the last two miles back to her apartment, Cristina reflected that, although it went against her grain in every way possible, it really wasn't so bad to lean on him. Now that he was doing so well, his broad shoulders could handle more than just his own problems, and he seemed to revel in helping her with whatever landed on her plate. Maybe it was just his nature, or maybe he was trying to pay her back for waiting for him for so long. Either way, Cristina had never in her life felt so supported by anyone.

----------

She was fortunate enough to heal nicely and resume training relatively quickly, though the strained muscle still gave her some pain on occasion. The remaining few weeks passed in a blur, and before she knew it they were packing up their stuff for the walk the next day. Owen had brought his things over, since they were leaving from Cristina's place early the next morning. He pulled out a plastic bag and handed it to her.

"Take a look inside. I thought we could wear these for the walk."

Cristina opened the bag and pulled out 6 navy blue T shirts in two sizes. On the front was a large head shot of Mary, a big smile on her face. _Team Mary_ was written in bold white lettering on the back, under a pink breast cancer awareness ribbon. Cristina broke into a huge grin. "You know I love you, right? These are perfect! Where'd you get the picture?"

Owen paused for a moment before responding, taking a moment to digest what she had just said. "You left your Facebook open and I stole it out of her photo gallery. I hope you don't mind the intrusion. Normally I'd never snoop in your stuff - or hers - but I didn't have another way to get it and I wanted to surprise you."

"No, this is great... Owen, thanks for everything. I'd never be doing this without you."

He smiled nervously. "We'll see if you're still thanking me after 20 miles tomorrow... which reminds me, I bought us something else. I think you'll appreciate it." He opened another large bag and produced a deflated full size air mattress and a pump. "In case the ground is too hard..."

Cristina was impressed. "Wow. You know me too well."

"I intend to make a habit of it."

He stuffed the mattress into his duffle and reflected that, if he had heard right, Cristina had just, casually and in passing, said those three important words to him for the first time.

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	2. The Walk

They had trained extensively, and still the walk was hard. The rolling hills of Seattle had no mercy on Cristina's calves and hamstrings, and she began to feel the fatigue after lunch on the first day. Thank goodness for the spectacular views, the plentiful food, the super-clean porta-potties, and the cheering spectators who lined the route and congregated en masse at the designated cheering stations. She appreciated the small, thoughtful touches, like the random trivia questions on the potty doors and the answers, in the form of a smiling celebrity poster, on the inside. She had to laugh when she found herself peeing under the watchful gaze of Brad Pitt. At the same stop, Owen had scored Angelina, and they got a kick out of the coincidence.

The walk was much more of a spectacle than either of them had imagined. Aside from the thousands of participants, there was a motorcycle gang that took it upon themselves to stop traffic at intersections to let the walkers pass. They looked ferocious - except for the pink bras they wore backwards over their jackets. Then there was the Pimpmobile that gave rides to those who were struggling, all tricked out with leopard seat covers and bearing the sign, "We pick up street walkers." The Itty Bitty Titty Taxi had its own way of performing the same service. They laughed and pointed as a vintage Chevy convertible drove by, trailing bras tied together by their straps, tin cans on the end that rattled on the ground like a "Just Married" convoy gone wrong. A few male walkers showed up in nightgowns with huge balloon-filled bras over top and garish curlers in their hair. Many others, male and female alike, had large fake breasts on top of their shirts and wild pink outfits.

"Hey, how come you didn't dress up, huh?" Cristina punched Owen's arm playfully as they passed a particularly outrageous group of men in drag.

He gave her an incredulous look and pulled her in close, "There isn't much I wouldn't do for you, Cristina, but going in drag - anywhere, ever... forget it."

Cristina snickered and looked at him appreciatively, and it occurred to her that she and Owen had actually had more fun since beginning this project than she could ever remember having with anyone. It had taken them so long to finally get together, but now that they had, just _being_ together was easy. They managed to overcome the obvious hurdles in the training process - like sore muscles and lack of motivation - by challenging and inspiring each other. And she had expected something much more somber when she had signed up, so she was delighted at all the unexpected humor in this experience. She snapped pictures of everything, preparing to create a slideshow to send to Mary when it was all over. She hoped the cheerful and sometimes hilarious shots she took would boost her friend's spirits.

They met many others with someone's picture on their shirts, and as they made their way mile after mile, they befriended some of the other walkers - some triumphant survivors walking for themselves, some walking for recovering or struggling friends, and others walking in memory of those who had passed. In the course of these conversations they heard stories of success and tragedy that gave them both a new appreciation for the resilience and greatness of the human spirit. It went without saying that they would both be better doctors because of their involvement in this walk.

When they reached the tent city in Marymoor Park where they would camp for the night, Cristina was so famished and sweaty she wasn't sure what to do first, eat or shower. The day had been humid and sticky, and a fine mist was hovering over the camp in anticipation of a nightime rain. They opted for food first, then located their gear and went to shower. Girl Scout troops had already set up the pink tents for everyone, and though Owen had playfully balked at sleeping in a pink structure ("I'll lose my man card forever..."), they had fun pumping up the air mattress and getting settled. Exhausted, they climbed into the tent to retire for the night. They could still hear the sounds of other people outside, talking and laughing as they settled down in their respective shelters.

They lay in silence for a few moments, side by side, until Cristina muttered sarcastically, "Wow. No TV, no laptops, no DVD player... This could get pretty boring if we don't fall asleep right away..."

Owen propped himself up on his elbow and leaned over her. "How tired are you?"

"Pretty tired. Why?"

In the soft pink light that filtered through the sides of the tent, she could see his mischievous grin. "Wanna play doctor?"

She smiled. "Hmmm... Well, we can't BOTH be the doctor..."

He brushed some stray tendrils of hair away from her face. "Oh, you're the patient... definitely the patient, Miss Yang." He trailed kisses from her ear to her neck, and took a little nip of her collar bone. "In fact, I understand there's a groin muscle that's been giving you some trouble. I think I'd better check it out..." He dived under the covers and Cristina let out a stifled giggle. She could feel the coarse hair of his beard as he tugged on the edge of her panties with his teeth, then yanked them all the way down and off in one swipe of his hand. He pulled the covers down so he could see her, then laid soft kisses on her pelvic area before tickling her belly button with his tongue. Cristina started to squirm. "Now, you'll have to keep still, Miss Yang," he admonished, running one finger up and down her cleft at the same time "or this might take even longer. I'm sure you have other things to do today after our appointment..."

"Not really..." Cristina gasped.

"Well, then, I'll need to have you remove your shirt so I can do a more thorough exam. Would you mind?"

"What?" Cristina was already barely coherent. "No. Here." She yanked her skimpy cami over her head and Owen looked at her appreciatively. Her naked body was a view he would never grow tired of. He moved up and took each nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it until she was writhing beneath him. Her responsiveness thrilled him as much this time as it had the first. She was already wet and ready, and he circled her clit with his finger until she started to moan softly.

"Hmm. Sounds like you're in pain. I'll have to look a bit closer to check this out more thoroughly." He exerted gentle outward pressure on her inner thighs as he moved downward.

Suddenly it dawned on Cristina where they were and how close their tent was to the ones on either side. Owen's voice tended to carry. "Shhh! Everyone'll know what we're up to in here!" she whispered urgently.

She heard Owen's low chuckle coming from her nether region, and he whispered back, "Then I suggest you forgo the screaming and moaning this time..." and began licking her with short, quick strokes that almost took her right over the edge. Cristina gasped and giggled at the same time, covering her mouth with her hand to keep the noise down. Her sore muscles were really starting to throb, but she was so immersed in the pleasure he was giving her that the discomfort was relegated to a back burner for now. The man had magic fingers and an even more magical tongue. He was moving a little more quickly than he usually did, though, and Cristina was about ready to come. She wanted him inside. "Owen, please..."

He stopped what he was doing and said in a mock-serious tone. "Pardon me, Miss Yang, but that's Dr. Hunt to you. I believe it's quite improper for you to address me by my first name here in the office."

"And what you're doing isn't improper?" she challenged playfully. "I could have you arrested."

He pulled himself up over her and gave her a mischievous look. "I'm so sorry. I wasn't aware I was offending you. If you'd like me to stop..."

"No! That's not what I..."

He silenced her with a kiss, then whispered in her ear, "Then tell me what it is you want, Miss Yang, and I'll try to oblige... I pride myself on seeing to ALL my patient's needs."

Cristina could barely stand the tension anymore. He had brought her to the edge and just left her there, and she was ready to kill him. She pulled him close and bit his earlobe, "Then shut the fuck up and get inside me RIGHT NOW."

Owen pulled away and gave her a devastatingly handsome grin. "Now, now, Miss Yang, no need to be rude..." and plunged into her in one long, hard stroke. Cristina moaned and arched her back. She was so close. "Shhh," Owen teased as he moved in and out, slowly at first and then faster and harder, "Everyone will know what we're doing in here..."

Cristina was past caring. They moved together with increasing urgency, finally peaking at virtually the same time, and she considered that - impossible as she had assumed it to be - she might have actually found a way to enjoy camping out.

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On Day 2, Cristina awoke more stiff and sore than she'd ever been in her life. Her calves and hamstrings were practically screaming, and her lower back was in agony. They had to get up early to be on their way, which just made matters worse. Owen was disgustingly cheerful, rummaging through their stuff, getting dressed, as Cristina lay there and glared at him. "I can't move. I don't know how I'm going to get through today."

Owen stopped what he was doing. "Turn over. Let's see if I can help you out a little." Cristina did as he suggested, and she moaned into her pillow as he kneaded out the worst of the kinks. His surgeon's hands were very adept at finding the hardest knots and she practically shot through the top of the tent when he found a particularly sore spot, only to force herself to relax so his fingers could work their magic. This was a talent of his they hadn't explored yet, but now that she knew about it, she planned to take advantage in the future. About 20 minutes later, she was finally able to move enough to get dressed and go to breakfast. Owen assured her that walking would help with the rest of the soreness, a prediction she fervently hoped was correct. Fortunately the layout of the Seattle route had them returning to the same camp tonight, so there was no need to pack up. Soon they were through the checkout line and on their way, albeit at a slower starting pace than the day before.

Day 2 held the surprise of moral support from SGH, scattered throughout the route. The first inkling they got of this was when Meredith grabbed Cristina's arm from behind and started walking with her.

"Wha... What're you doing here?" She and Owen had been holding hands, and she pulled him to a stop. Derek caught up with them at that moment, a little out of breath. "Good eye, Mer... I'm amazed she spotted you in this crowd. I would've missed you."

"Hey, Shepherd."

"Hunt," Derek nodded.

"What're you guys doing here?" Cristina repeated. "Don't you have work to do?"

"Hell no," Derek shook his head, "Took a day off. We thought we'd drop in and walk with you a bit - make ourselves look good. It's the least we could do after you took all our money."

Cristina looked at Owen, who nodded in the direction of traffic. "Let's go, then." They started walking, and Meredith and Derek stayed with them for almost 2 miles before bidding them goodbye and turning around. They were joined later by Bailey, with little Tuck in a jogging stroller, and she surprised them both by walking with them for over an hour. Karev and Izzie were waiting at an intersection near mile 10, and just talked for a couple of minutes before waving them on. Izzie was doing well but still wasn't up to much exercise. Sloan and Lexie handed them Snickers bars and walked a mile with them too. All the others were on duty but sent their regards. By the time the day was over, Cristina realized that the support she was receiving from her colleagues had put her in an excellent mood in spite of her achy muscles. It was amazing that, in helping someone else, she was only now realizing the amount of assistance that she herself could muster. People had come through for her - and by extension, for Mary - in every way possible.

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Day 3 was Cristina's slowest and hardest. The fatigue of having already walked 40 miles in two days had her totally trashed. She had worn out one pair of shoes, and the new ones she had on weren't nearly as broken in. She had thought the blisters from Day 1 were bad, but Owen had lanced those for her at lunchtime; that and some bandaids, and she'd been ok. Now new ones were forming in new places, and to top it off, her right knee began to hurt like hell and one of her big toenails felt like it was about to fall off. It didn't help that Owen seemed impervious to any discomfort on this walk. It was clear that a 60 mile, 3 day hike held no real challenge for him. He offered to start complaining just to keep her company, but she was not amused. Finally, at mile 16, her wayward groin muscle decided to give out,. She yelped in pain, staggered over to the curb, and sat down.

"You ok?" Owen sat down beside her.

"Nope. Fuck. That's it," she groaned. "I can't walk any further. It's the groin pull again. I'm done." She was trying to massage it without looking like she was some kind of a pervert. "I was really hoping to make it all the way... Shit... "

The walkers streamed past, some stopping to check on Cristina before Owen waved them away, "She's ok. I've got it."

"I could carry you like last time," he suggested. "It's only 4 miles. Piece of cake."

Just then they heard a van pull up. "Hey, Sugar, need a lift somewhere? I could make it worth your while..." They both looked up to see the Pimpmobile, with a guy in an enormous feathered hat and more rings than he had fingers leaning out the passenger side window. They couldn't help but start laughing. Owen looked at Cristina. "I think this is your best bet... Sugar. You want a ride?"

"Nope," she waved them off, "but thanks anyway. We've got it covered." The guy waved back, "Y'all come back and see me sometime, y'hear?" and sped away.

Cristina shook her head with a combination of amusement and frustration. "I didn't come this far to ride the last few miles, even in a classy vehicle like that one." Her sarcasm covered a deep disappointment that Owen could read all to well. "So... I'm not thrilled with the piggyback thing, but the truth is I don't see any other way where I'll feel like I actually _did_ it. Let's just try and keep this low key, ok? I don't want to attract a lot of attention." Owen nodded in agreement. "Come on, then. Let's do it." He helped her onto her feet, then had her stand on the curb while he knelt down low enough for her to climb on. People smiled and waved at them as they went by, clearly appreciating these last efforts to finish the walk. Cristina mused that some of them probably wished they had a guy like Owen to carry them the rest of the way even if they weren't injured. She was pleased that he did his best to keep things as unobtrusive as possible, though when he handed her camera to another walker and asked her to take their picture, she was tempted to jam her foot somewhere painful. He insisted that Mary would want ALL the details, not just the pretty ones, and while Cristina was somewhat miffed, she knew he was right and decided not to say any more about it.

They arrived at the holding area three miles later, one mile from the finish. There, they received their official 3-Day T-shirts and were told to wait until everyone had come in. The final mile was to be walked as one big group, and in spite of the fact that they had been delayed by Cristina's injury, they were not even close to the last ones in. Finally, when enough of a group had accumulated, they all set out together along the waterfront. There were loads of people congregated there to cheer everyone along this final mile, and they spotted a contingent from SGH among them. Cristina was mortified that everyone she worked with would see her finishing the walk on Owen's back, but there was nothing to be done.

They walked over to exchange high 5's with everyone, and Karev shouted, "Hey! I want my money back! I paid for two walkers, not one and a half!"

Izzie clamped her hand over his mouth and smiled brightly at them, and Cristina gave him the finger.

Owen laughed and shook his head. "She's injured," he explained to everyone as they walked by, "She did most of it herself. I swear."

"Yeah. Bite me, Karev!" Cristina chimed in. "Let's see you do 60 miles sometime."

Despite her immense discomfort, Cristina wanted to actually walk across the finish line herself. Owen set her down a few yards before the end and, with him holding her by the arm, she hobbled under the gigantic pink banner. As soon as she was across, Owen picked her up off the ground and spun her around before giving her a long and lingering kiss, then pulled her to his side so she could hop along and go sit down. There was a huge crowd awaiting everyone in the Memorial Stadium, and after a brief rest he hoisted her up one more time to take a quick look and a few photos, before they gathered their gear and took off for home.


	3. The Glow

They ended their day at Owen's place, due to the fact that his bathroom had a large jacuzzi tub that easily fit two. The thought of it was enough to create a longing in Cristina that heretofore had only been satisfied by food and sex - not necessarily in that order. She protested the delay when he insisted on stopping on the way home at a little strip mall, but when she smelled the extra large pizza he brought back and saw the bottle of champagne peeking out of the bag, she decided it was worth it. He assisted her up the stairs - she refused to be carried - and made her wait on the sofa while he filled the tub with steaming hot water and epsom salts, turned on the jets, and helped her in. Cristina closed her eyes in bliss as the heat started to sooth her tired and sore body. She'd have to be careful not to fall asleep and drown. "Aren't you joining me?"

"In a minute. I just have to get the stuff from the truck." Owen left and returned with the pizza and champagne, an ice bucket, and two wine glasses. "Sorry I don't have any of that girlie stuff you have at your place."

"What girlie stuff? I don't do girlie stuff."

"Yeah, you do. Candles, scented bath oil..."

"Oh, that... That's not girlie stuff. That's basic female survival. Girlie stuff is frilly nightgowns and... and hideous pink sweaters..." She let her self drift for a moment before mumbling drowsily, "Um... we have the day off tomorrow, right?"

"Yes. Now, open your eyes..." Owen was standing over her with the pizza box and handed her a slice, then put the box down on lid of the toilet. "Eat that before you drink anything or I'll have to peel you off the bottom of the tub." Cristina eyed his choice of table skeptically, reminding herself that guys did things differently and once again keeping her mouth shut. She had to give herself credit - she was getting better at not saying the first thing that came into her head. Famished, she immediately got to work on her slice. He returned a second later with the ice bucket, two glasses, and the champagne bottle. He poured their drinks, handing her one before setting his down on the ledge, undressing, and climbing in the tub with her. She eyed him appreciatively. "Sorry," he apologized with mock gravity, "but I'm just too tired for sex tonight..." Cristina burst out laughing. _Yeah, right._

Owen helped himself to a slice of pizza and polished it off before picking up his glass. "I'd like to make a toast," He nudged her with his foot to get her attention. She had already closed her eyes again, and he was afraid she was going to doze off and drop the glass in the tub. "To Cristina, who not only takes her friendships seriously but who will literally walk the walk for the people she cares about...Your friends don't know how lucky they are to have you, but I do."

Cristina smiled at him and took a sip, closing her eyes in ecstasy as the bubbly liquid ran down her throat. That, combined with the food in her stomach and the hot bubbles caressing her sore muscles, was as close to heaven as she was likely to get anytime soon. Was there anything better than this? Champagne, hot food, hot water, hot man... All she needed to make this perfect after 60 miles of walking was a foot rub. She poked him with her toe and, and as if he could read her mind, he set his glass down and began massaging her sore instep with both hands. She let out a long sigh of contentment, put her glass down on the ledge, and dunked her head under the water, emerging all wet and sleek and beautiful. After getting the water out of her eyes, she raised her glass, "And to Owen, who made it all possible, and who gives the most incredible massages..." He gave her a small, embarrassed smile and stopped what he was doing long enough to take a swig of his champagne.

"So, now that you know what you know..." he asked, "...would you do it again?"

Cristina pondered for a moment before answering. "Yes... next year or the year after... when she's well... if she comes and does it with me."

That was an even better answer than the one he'd hoped for, and Owen felt his heart fill with gratitude for having her in his life. He squeezed her foot. "Not without me, you won't. I'm not letting some other lucky guy carry you the last four miles..."

Cristina nodded thoughtfully. He was joking - but he wasn't - and neither was she. "You have a deal, then." They looked at each other for a long moment, realizing that in committing to this cause, they were also committing to each other.

"I think we're gonna make it, you and me..." he said quietly.

"Yeah..." she said, in that soft tone she used only with him, "...me too."

They clinked their glasses together and it was Cristina who spoke, "To Mary... to a full recovery and a long life."

And Owen nodded in agreement. "To Mary... and to us."

**THE END**

_**A/N: ** If you've taken the time to read this story, please take a moment to review it. I pay close attention to your comments**!**_**  
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